


Riding Out the Storm

by WinchestersRaven



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom Cas, Complete, Destiel - Freeform, Emotional Dean, Enochian, First Kiss, First Time, M/M, Oneshot, Pining, Rain, Storm - Freeform, Top Dean, cas riding dean, dean just can't go on without cas, inspired by a song by OneRepublic, lightening, power outtage, slight angst, thunderstorm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-26
Updated: 2014-09-26
Packaged: 2018-02-18 20:14:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2360855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WinchestersRaven/pseuds/WinchestersRaven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean has been trying to dodge the storm all night, but when the storm has blue eyes, he might just let it take him away.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Riding Out the Storm

**Author's Note:**

> Written by a friend of mine and now under my pseudo for safe keeping. - WinchestersRaven
> 
> Inspired by OneRepublic's song Can't Stop off their album Native. 
> 
> I would listen to this song, and this is what would play through my head, like a movie, each time. I pictured it as what Dean would say to Cas. 
> 
> Please read with this song playing in the background: http://heytheregreeneyes.tumblr.com/post/98448825282/cant-stop-with-the-sounds-of-a-thunderstorm-added
> 
> If you wanna fully feel the feels, It enhances the experience 10000 fold, i promise.

Riding Out the Storm

 

“God damn it, Sammy,” Dean grumbled as he left the bar.  He had a shit night actually losing money hustling pool, after having had a shit day, which ended in a fight with Sam, and his brother taking off with the car to work a different job in a different city to give each other some ‘space’.  All of this resulting in his current situation of having to walk back to the motel from the bar, while thunder threatened in the distance.

It was mid-October, and it had been raining steadily most of the day. Dean was grateful for the lull in rain, and even though October weather was Dean’s favorite, he was feeling a little too chilly, a little too pissed off, and just wanted to get back to the damn motel room, and fall into a deep, preferably dreamless, sleep.  He took a deep breath, hoping to calm his nerves when the scent of the oncoming storm attacked his senses.  A faint grin slipped onto his face as the aroma reminded him of someone.  He could never understand how a person with the bluest and clearest of eyes smelled like the air before a tempest fell to the earth.  The moment was fleeting as the heavens opened up on him.

“Great. Oh, this is just friggin’ WONDERFUL,” Dean complained to himself as the universe decided against him today as well.  Picking up his pace to a mid-jog, Dean’s rage returns as he sloshes through the crappy, muddy, gravel parking lot, covering his boots in muck and mud.

Finally reaching his room’s door, he jams the keycard into the slot, getting even angrier when the damn thing keeps flashing red, not letting him in.  “Oh, COME ON!” Dean shouts, as the lock finally turns green on his fourth try.

Once inside, Dean irritably removes his soaked jacket, and angrily flings it onto the empty bed that should have been belonged to Sam. 

“You want space? I'll give you all the friggin' space you can handle, Cinderella." Dean sighs, heading for his bag that sits on his own bed. All he wanted to do was brush the nasty taste of cheap beer out of his mouth, and climb into his crappy bed for a pitiful night’s sleep.

Dean is digging through his duffel looking for his toiletry bag, when suddenly there is a blindingly    bright light, and ear-splitting crack of thunder. Dean startles and throws his hands up in the air, but not   before one of his arms had become tangled in the duffel's straps, successfully causing the bag to launch off the bed, and the contents to scatter.  To make matters worse, the storm had knocked out the power to the hotel and he was now standing in pitch-black, his belongings strewn all over the floor.

“Oh friggin’ PERFECT.  This is just what I needed tonight,” Dean gripes aloud, as he struggles to gather all of the contents in the dark, and shove them back into his bag.  He is on his hands and knees, blindly groping the floor for the rest of his stuff,  when his fingers brush against an object he had all but forgotten he had with him; Cas’s name badge from the Gas N Sip.

Dean missed Cas. The angel still hadn’t been answering his prayers, or phone calls, or texts for that matter.  He knew that Cas was busy playing commander to his angel followers. Yes, catching Metatron was priority number one, but would it kill him to just check in with a ‘ _Hey, how you doin’_ , or ‘ _Hey, still not dead’_ every now and then? Dean lets out a heavy sigh. Now kneeling on the ground, sitting back on his heels, he gently strokes his fingers over the name.  It may say ‘Steve’, but as Dean touches the indentation, all he thinks is Castiel, all he sees are stunning blue eyes, all he feels is rough fingers and a kind heart, but most of all he smells the rain.

Another big flash of lightning illuminates the sky, lighting up his room for just a second, and a rumble of thunder shortly follows. The storm is getting more intense now, winds howling and pushing against the door.  Suddenly Dean notices his cheeks are moist, not from his dash in the rain, but tears from his eyes he wasn’t aware were falling.   The rage is gradually subsiding as Dean finally acknowledges the actual problem.  It’s not Sam fleeing to another case, losing money at pool, or the mud on his boots.  He is angry with Cas for abandoning him again.

Still in his kneeling position, he slumps his shoulders, defeated, arms going limp.  With the nametag still in hand, his head drops. The need to speak with Cas is breaking him.  The hole in his chest is aching, and he can’t stop the words that flow from his mouth.

“Cas, you got your ears on?” Dean sighs with sorrow. “Where are you, man? Is this how it’s gonna be? You and I just don’t talk anymore, bigger things to do, bigger picture to see? I can’t live day in and day out without you, Cas. I’ll never get used to this silence. It’s killing me, man.”

The hunter’s deep, gruff voice is breaking. He quickly wipes a hot tear from his face.  Dropping his voice even lower, barely a whisper now as if in a confessional he adds, “I can’t do this anymore, Cas. I need you. Need you here, with me. Can’t we just put this other shit on hold, just for one night?

Unexpectedly, the words are just flowing out of him. Dean is barely aware that he’s even talking; it just comes out as a reflex.  Wrapping his hands around the back of his head, he folds even more into himself, trying to close the gaping hole he feels in his heart.

“I can’t, Cas,” Dean cries, rocking himself back and forth, hands still clasped behind his head.  “I can’t stop thinking about us anymore.  Maybe Heaven doesn’t want it, maybe Hell doesn’t want it and hell, maybe the universe itself doesn’t want it, but I can’t stop thinking about us, Cas.  You and me.  And what have I got to lose, anyway? All I’ve got to lose, is nothing I want anymore. All I want is you.”

The torrential downpour from the raging storm is beating on the window as if it wants to grab Dean and drown his very soul.  Without warning, a strobe of light brightens the entire dank motel room, blinding the praying man for just a second.  It leaves Dean seeing stars as he expects it to alleviate the shadows in his heart.

Dean closes his eyes as memories of Castiel standing before him, the lights of the garage exploding with his power, give Dean the strength to speak once more.  “Cas, please.  I’m falling apart without you.”

This is the hunter’s undoing as sobs fill the dark motel room.  He is alone, and the one person who always came when he called has left him for a better cause.  Abruptly, the room is washed with a bright light once more, but this illumination is followed with the powerful aroma of air before a storm.  The scent continues to intensify as Dean imagines a solid hand cupping his face and tender that lips cover his in a kiss.

 _God, why can’t this be real?_ _It feels so real,_ he thought to himself. He had hoped, prayed, and pleaded for this for so long, that even his body starts to believe it is real. He starts to feel the warm, almost tingly static feeling of grace wrapping around all the hurt in his body, healing him from the inside.  He wants so badly for Cas to just be there with him, that his whole body trembled with the need of it. It isn’t until he feels a gentle pull from his jaw that he snaps his eyes open to see his angel standing above him.

“Hello, Dean,” Cas simply states, a small, sympathetic smile sliding onto his face. Dean scrambles to his feet, now face to face with his angel, Cas’s hand having never left his face. 

“Cas?  No...I’m not…y-you…you can’t…God damn it, Cas,” Dean surges towards his angel, attacking those tender lips with his own.  It has become urgent for him to feel his mouth pressed against Castiel’s.  The need suppresses Dean’s ability for coherent thought as his hands go wild through Cas’s dark hair, before grasping down his body, attempting to commit every single part of it to memory.  A moan escapes his sweet angel’s throat, encouraging him further.  He seizes the back of Castiel’s neck with his rough, strong hands, pulling him deeper into the kiss.  Dean needs the contact like he needs air to breathe.

Cas pulls away much before Dean is ready, ending the kiss. “Dean, I believe we have much to discuss; or rather, I have much that I need to say.”

“Well if you have so much to say, why didn’t you ever call?” Dean was still hurt.  He couldn't understand that if Castiel wanted to talk to him, why he didn't do it before now. It hurt him to feel ignored.

The angel steps back, causing Dean’s heart to break just a little; he doesn’t want space, he wants Cas.  “Dean, please don’t be angry with me.  There is just too much for a simple phone call.  Neither of us had the time to deal with this situation.”

Dean’s anger is slipping back in as he tries to prepare himself for rejection.  “Oh, I’m a situation now?  Something to be dealt with?”

Castiel’s eyes are on the floor, “Dean, do you honestly think that I don’t want this?  That I don’t want to be with you? There is nothing more that I have ever wanted in my entire existence. I have thought of it every single day since rescuing you from Hell.” Cas’s rough, gravelly voice is lower now as he steps closer to Dean.  He lifts his stormy blue eyes, looking directly into Dean's sad, green ones, “Do you think that I don’t imagine your hands touching me, your lips on mine, holding you, touching you?  I just want…”

The hunter is swift in his response, closing the gap between them, taking the angel’s chin into his fingers, and turning that strong jaw just a tad so he can place his lips where they belong.  Castiel releases a deep breath, as though he had been holding it for quite some time.  A breath he felt that he had held since he raised Dean from Hell.  Then, something in him changes as Dean fills his mouth with his tongue.

Cas savors the taste of his hunter. Suddenly desire overwhelms them as this small connection is no longer enough.  Dean desperately needs to connect fully with his angel, on every level. He needs to show Cas just how much he means to him. Needs to spill out all those unspoken declarations of love, all the stolen glances, all the extended looks of longing.  Needs to express to his angel just how much he truly needs him.

Dean moves his hands from Cas's face to the lapels of his trench coat and pulls him in tighter, their chests bumping against each other.  Castiel pushes his solid, strong body into Dean’s, leaving the hunter breathless. Dean lets out a deeper, darker moan, as he lets his hands roam into Cas's trench coat, his mouth never leaving his angel's. He gently rubs at the small of Cas's back as he works his way up to his angel's shoulders, pushing the top of his trench coat down to his elbows. Dean uses the temporary bondage to pull Cas even closer, and slide his lips from his mouth to the little space behind his ear. Cas lets out needy moan, and this only spurs Dean further, his cock hardening at the sound.

Dean continues his worship of Cas as he bites and licks his way from that tender spot behind his ear, to his Jawline, and finally down to the delicious sweet spot on his neck where Dean stops, dipping his tongue into the hollow.

The hunter releases his darkest secret, "Oh Cas, you have no idea how long I have wanted this," as he turns his head and works his way up the other side of Cas's neck, “how long I have wanted to kiss you."  He accentuates this with a lengthy kiss to the angel’s temple. "Touch you," A wicked smile escaping his lips as he nips at the gorgeous collarbone, “have you." Dean ends his speech by gently closing his teeth over Cas's ear lobe and rolling his hips harshly into the other man’s crotch.  The friction is delicious, eliciting a provocative moan from Cas, and causing Dean to grunt, his head falling back.

Castiel's hands flutter over Dean’s body, hindered by layers of clothing as if he didn't know where to start. Dean then quickly removes the trench coat, immediately followed by the jacket. He presses open-mouthed kisses to Cas's neck as he untucks the white button-up, Castiel drops his head back to give Dean more access, and Dean could feel the rumble in Cas's throat against his mouth, and yet, he wanted more.

"Dean." He tugs himself from Dean, breaking the connection, driving the hunter wild with desperation.  Cas takes Dean’s face into his hands, his eyes searching while his mind gropes for the right words.  The angelic leader inhales, “My existence has no meaning without you.  You not only gave me purpose, you taught me how to love, and all I want is to show you what I have learned.” 

Castiel steps back, his eyes never leaving Dean’s as he gradually starts removing his clothing piece by piece.  Dean drinks in his first time seeing his angel naked, swallowing thickly.  He rushes to join him when Cas smacks his hands away in a breathy tone, “Let me, Dean.”

The hunter leans against the gaudy hotel wallpaper as he stalks every movement the angel makes with his eyes.  Cas’s lengthy, powerful hands unbuttoning Dean’s shirt and pulling it over his head while giving the hunter a directive, “Close your eyes, Dean.”

Dean obeys as he licks his wanting lips, waiting for Castiel to complete his task.  With his eyes closed, the hunter can sense every motion that Cas makes as he feels fingers ghosting over his bare chest to his jeans.  He can clearly hear the zipper of his jeans going down as the fabric sinks down to his knees, followed by his boxer briefs.  Then Dean lets out a wail as Castiel takes his cock into his tender, inviting mouth. 

The angel is lapping his tongue up the shaft of Dean’s dick before swallowing him whole, allowing his hard cock to penetrate deep into his throat. Dean is past the point of coherent thought. All his brain thinks is ' _Cas Cas Cas_ '.

Feeling the familiar swirl of sparks and heat building in his belly, Dean realizes he is close. He doesn't want their first time to end with a quick blowjob, so he lovingly reaches down to grasp Castiel by his jaw, and gently lift him up, just as the angel had done to him earlier in the night.

"Cas," he prays, gazing into his clear blue eyes, just as he had so many times before.  Leaning in and meeting the angel’s lips with his own once again, Dean savors being able to FINALLY taste his angel.  Pulling Castiel's bottom lip between his teeth, he gently bites, teasing his angel, all while reaching down, and hiking Castiel’s right leg around his waist.  Hissing, Dean throws his head back, hitting it on the wall with a thump. "Oh God Cas," Dean cried out, as the immediate friction this new position has provided caused dean to see stars, lining up their cocks perfectly, sending sparks straight down to Dean's dick. There is a low guttural groan from Cas as he learns how to stimulate his hunter.  The angel lowers his hand, grasping both their cocks together as he continues to thrust his hips onto Dean and into his own palm. 

Cas’s touch is sensual, and for a time Dean becomes lost in the sensation.  As he is repositioning he and Cas's weight, his toe taps a small bottle of lube that had escaped his duffle.  He smiles, and leans over to pick it up.  As he rises, he catches the angel off guard, spinning him swiftly, and tossing him into the wall.  Dean enters the angel’s space, leaning his chest to Cas's back, and mouth to his ear, “Going to open you up now, Cas.  Tell me if it’s too much,” Dean soothes as he places an adoring kiss to Cas's temple.

The angel nods, his voice lost in want and excitement.  He dribbles the solution over his fingers before tossing the bottle to the floor.  Using only one finger, he thrusts it deep into Cas’s ass.  The response is a moan as Castiel grinds his hips back, asking for more.  A hiss of pain quickly followed by a small, “Yes” escape that beautiful mouth.  He finds a slow rhythm as he moves his finger in an out before slowly adding, in turn, two more fingers, grazing past his prostrate causing his angel to cry out, “Lord. Oh Jesus…"

Dean knew that at this rate, he wasn't going to last much longer, so clutching Castiel's shoulder, he pivots the angel to face him. He lifts his lover’s legs and wraps them around his waist, ambling over to his bed. Instead of laying Cas down, Dean sits and then drops onto his back, leaving his angel perched on his stomach, straddling him.  The hunter cups Cas’s face as he escorts it down to his wanting lips.  When their mouths meet, it is tender and loving, but gradually the desire and want builds as Cas moans, “Dean” into his own mouth. 

Without warning, the angel lifts himself up, reaching behind him stroking Dean’s cock.  Before Dean can finish his first pleasure filled groan, Cas scoots back and starts sliding down the Hunter’s shaft.  “SHIT! Oh God, Cas! You're gonna fucking kill me.”

The angel lays a single finger over his lips smiling, from ear to ear.  “I got this.”

Dean glares into those baby blue eyes and gets lost in the sensation as Cas sets the pace, slowly rocking onto Dean's cock.

Dean had never seen anything more beautiful in his life. Cas's skin is silky smooth, glistening with sweat, his head tossed back in euphoria. Needing to caress the glorious sight in front of him, Dean reaches out and strokes his angel's divine face, successfully breaking the trance Cas had been in, as the angel graces the hunter’s ears with a heavenly voice. A whimper escapes Dean's throat as he realizes that Cas is delicately chanting in Enochian.  The words flow from Castiel like a prayer, and hell, maybe it was. Dean has no idea as to its meaning, but it doesn't matter. The celestial movement of Cas’s body is humbling as Dean glimpses the true sensation of being worshipped.

"Don't...Cas, don't stop. Don't stop talking to me. P-please. God, Cas. Fuck..."

Cas simply leans forward, still riding Dean’s cock, and places his lips right next to Dean’s ear, and whispers a final prayer to his beloved hunter. 

"Oh  god, Cas!" The warm, stirring electricity had started back up in Dean's belly, alerting him that he was close. "Cas...ungh, fuck! Cas, I'm close! I'm close!

Cas's eyes fly open, connecting with Dean's and pinning him there.  The burning intensity in his angel's eyes replenishes the hunter’s cold, dried, heart, allowing it to swell with love. The two men have dashed across the line, breaking all the rules because this is right, the two were always meant to be one.  Dean finally gets to claim Cas as his own. As if sensing this, Cas lunges forward and growls, "Mine," as he tilts his head and places a bite to Dean's shoulder.

“Ungh…Christ, Cas!”

Dean’s hands are on his ass, pulling him down to meet the rolling of his hips. Cas's rhythm is starting to falter, and Dean knows that they are both close.  "Dean? Dean...I...Mmm" Cas is past coherent speech and is now babbling.

Outside, the lightening is near constant, and the thunder is rolling.  Sensing how close they are, Dean reaches down and starts to stroke Cas. One, two, three quick tugs are all it takes to pull his angel over the edge. Just as Cas is reaching his peak and Dean feels Cas's first stream of cum, there is a violent strobe of light, and Dean cannot believe his eyes. On the walls, all around him are shadows of Castiel's wings, big and powerful, and fucking gorgeous.

This is all it takes to push Dean over the edge, astray in his own orgasm, the shock ripping through him like a white-hot surge of need and desire.  The rest of the world can be tossed into oblivion because in this moment, he has found shelter from the storm.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> This fic would not have happened if it weren't for the help of Littleanglecassie. I pretty much just laid the bare bones, and she would go through and embellish and make it pretty. So thank you, my goddess of writing!


End file.
